


Coming Back (To You)

by yiffymorty



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Dancing and Singing, Drabble, Grandparent/Grandchild Incest, Kissing, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yiffymorty/pseuds/yiffymorty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like fuck or die—but with dancing.  The problem is that Morty can't dance to save his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Back (To You)

**Author's Note:**

> This is #37 from the [Rickmorty prompts meme](http://yiffymorty.tumblr.com/post/132633842445/send-me-a-number-for-rick-and-morty-drawing).
> 
> this was meant to be a drabble but it got away from me AS USUAL
> 
> the song Rick sings is by Leonard Cohen, and you can listen to it [HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-GHvfZvp78). the lyrics don't have much to do with anything, but I thought the tempo and melody were appropriate :)

Morty stares wide-eyed around a fancy ballroom the size of a football field. Thousands of polymorphous bodies move together like the tide. Many have taken on humanoid forms, some dancing alone, and a few more dancing in pairs or groups of four, all moving hypnotically in the same rhythmic pattern. Morty is acutely aware the there is no music playing. 

He and Rick had just narrowly escaped a surprise attack from some bounty hunters; apparently, a different Rick Sanchez had successfully stolen a government secret. Rick swears he’s innocent, for once, and Morty doesn’t have time to decide whether or not he believes him. Fortunately, Rick had looted some gear from the aliens he had knocked out—specifically, two earpieces which he attached to himself and Morty. 

"We gotta blend in, Morty," says Rick, "If we get found out, it-it-it's over for us."

"Aw, man, wh-what are we gonna do, Rick?" 

“We’re gonna—gonna dance, Morty,” says Rick, grabbing the kid’s arm and dragging him onto the dance floor before Morty can protest. “These headsets will mask our brainwaves, but the more you draw attention, the more suspicious we’ll look. Y-y-y-you gotta dance with me.” 

Panic rises in Morty’s chest. “Dance?! But I can’t dance, Rick!” he pleads, “B-besides, how do you—how are all these people dancing together like this? There’s no music!”

“They’re a hivemind, with telepathy and shit. There’s no time to explain, Morty. Just follow my lead a-and don’t fuck up.” Rick takes Morty’s right hand in his left and wraps his right arm around the kid’s waist. Rick bows his head so he’s almost nose-to-nose with Morty and, lacing their fingers together, starts to sing, so quiet that only Morty can hear. 

“ _Baby, I’m still hurting, I can’t turn the other cheek. But know that I still love you, it’s just that I can’t speak..._ ”

Morty shudders at the low tenor of his grandpa’s voice. His ears prickle hotly, his eyes cast downward so Rick can’t see him blush, but Rick can feel Morty’s racing heart pounding when their chests bump awkwardly together. The old man sighs. He’s not a ballroom dancer, but he knows music so well that he can keep a steady tempo, and an arsenal of songs by heart for every occasion. Morty, however, keeps tripping over his own feet. 

When they start to move across the floor, Rick guides him in circles, slowly towards the far end of the room. Morty struggles to keep up, falling out of step when Rick nudges his back and pulls him by the hand. Morty tries to shift his weight from foot to foot instead of leaping around to keep up, and notices the difference right away. Rick nods his approval. 

“ _...They’re handing down my sentence now, and I know what I must do. Another mile of silence while I’m coming back to you..._ ”

When he looks at Rick, he’s never seen his grandpa look so tranquil, and his expression comforts Morty; Rick knows what he’s doing and and Morty knows he’ll keep them safe. Rick grips Morty’s hand a little tighter and begins to turn him in a full circle and Morty allows himself to be lead along. Rick turns him inward, tightens his hold around Morty’s waist and dips him. He steps aside to tip Morty even farther. Morty’s arms fly around Rick’s neck, afraid he’ll fall, but when he listens to Rick sing, he remembers he needs to trust the man. 

“ _...Even in your arms I know I’ll never get it right. Even when you bend to give me comfort in the night..._ ”

When they return to their formal routine, Morty keeps his head up, confident enough to let instinct drive him. He focuses so much on Rick—his wordless instructions, his closeness, his hot breath sending chills down Morty’s spine while he sings sweetly in his ear—that Morty doesn’t realize they’ve almost made it across the floor. The sea of bodies seems to have parted; their destination is only yards away. 

“ _...I’ve got to have your word on this, or none of it is true. And all I’ve said was just instead of coming back to you._ ”

For the finale, Rick spins Morty again, and he can tell that Rick is showing off now. When Rick pulls the boy back into his arms, he closes his eyes and brings their lips together in a soft, tender kiss. Morty doesn’t give it a second thought before kissing back, so swept up in the moment that he doesn’t care how many people might be watching. The moment doesn’t last long, however—Rick quickly whisks him off the dance floor and out the door. Morty is almost disappointed that it’s over so soon. 

“D-d-did we make it?” squeaks Morty, breathless and trembling from the adrenaline rush. 

“Just barely,” says Rick, looking over his shoulder. Morty follows his gaze and sees two uniformed aliens pushing their way through the crowd. Rick digs inside his coat for the portal gun and shoots it at the nearest wall. “Let’s go!” He flips off the aliens and, still holding Morty’s hand, leaps through the swirling vortex. When they tumble to the ground, soft grass breaking their fall, Morty knows that they’ve landed safely back on earth. 

He and Rick lay sprawled out on the Smith family’s lawn, still clutching each other tightly. Morty catches his breath and turns his head to look at Rick, “That was a close one! I-I-I mean, if that didn’t work—h-how did you know it would work, anyway, Rick?”

“Is—is that a rhetorical question, or j-j-just a stupid one?” scoffs Rick. He shoves Morty away and gets to his feet, brushing dirt from his elbows. 

“Jeez, s-seriously? A-a-are you just gonna pretend that last part d-didn’t happen?” quips Morty, sitting up, “Because I don’t think that was really necessary—that wasn’t key to the plan, Rick!"

Rick snorts and grins at the blush tinting Morty’s cheeks. “Y-yeah, so what?” he says, defensively, “I already had to _sing_ to you, M-Morty—which is, all things considered, really _gay._ A-a-and before you say anything stupid about political correctness, I have sex with men, Morty, and even I think that’s pretty—pretty fucking gay.” 

Morty laughs nervously, but can’t help smiling at his grandpa’s attempt at covering his ass. “I bet you sang to plenty of guys before...” The realization tugs at his heart, and he mentally kicks himself for being jealous of the people Rick had loved before Morty had even been born. His train of thought is interrupted when Rick pulls him to his feet and tips the kid’s chin up with a finger. “Was it that bad, Morty? A-are you trying to tell me I’m a bad kisser, M-Morty?”

“Um, well, n-no,” says Morty, flushing hotly. He glances towards the house. All the lights are off except the porch light, illuminating them in a soft amber glow. From where he stands, Morty can barely make out the features in Rick’s face, even when the old man closes the distance between them. Rick’s lips hover over Morty’s for a second—the boy can back away if he wants to—and kisses him, this time with parted lips. 

Morty moans quietly and tugs Rick by the lapels of his lab coat, bringing their chests together. He stands on tiptoe and wraps his arms around Rick’s neck, deepening the kiss and coaxing Rick’s tongue into his mouth. He relishes in the sensation of Rick’s tongue moving languidly against his own. Morty’s body is buzzing from the whole experience, from the first words Rick had sung to him to the mad dash through the portal. 

When Rick breaks the kiss, Morty is burning hot and panting. He hopes Rick doesn’t notice the semi in his jeans, certain the man would tease him for getting horny over a simple kiss. But Morty can’t help it, not when the memory of Rick’s deep voice singing sweetly to him and him alone. “I want you to t-t-teach me to dance, Rick,” Morty murmurs in between kisses, “Y-you know, in case we need to—in case it comes in handy someday.” 

Rick touches his forehead to Morty’s and cups his soft, round face in his hands. “I don’t know, Morty, you’re a real shitty dancer. It’s gonna take a lot more time than I have to make a dancer out of your clumsy ass.”

“Fuck you, Rick.” Morty grins against Rick’s mouth. “At least you could teach me h-h-how to—maybe you could, uh, could practice k-kissing with me?”

Rick is silent after that. The only sounds either of them make while Rick backs Morty into garage, lips locked, are deep sighs and quiet moans. Now this is something Rick definitely has time to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know a thing about dancing, so if the descriptions sound awkward....well, that's why.
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://yiffymorty.tumblr.com)!


End file.
